In books and movies, magic had always seemed like the solution to every existing problem. It was effective, safe, and something people could always rely on. But in the world you lived in, it was the complete opposite. Unlike what everyone once believed, humans with powers were now seen as a disgrace. Dangerous, murderous, cursed. To the people, they were sinners, sinners who deserved nothing but death. Strange, wasn’t it? A gift so divine, yet it only brought fear.

Magic was no longer a miracle, but a sentence. Every spark of power was a spark of suspicion. And in a society built on fear, suspicion was enough to kill. Now, magic, once a dream, had become the mark of death. You had learned this the hard way. Humans with magic were beyond crossed from society. But, it hadn't always been this way.

Long ago, the man you once called your father was the one who betrayed your race. People with magic weren’t seen as a threat back then, but as saviors. They used their powers to heal, to bring happiness and prosperity to a world drowning in poverty. But your father, a madman, was the one who shattered that peace. He lost himself to insanity, twisting his gift into something vile: to destroy, to corrupt, to kill. That single act of madness was enough to turn the ordinary population against all who carried magic.

Not everyone was a danger, but because of him, your future had already been written in the eyes of the world. Now, without magic, people had found new ways to survive. The new technologies, the years passing by… It all helped the world to regain its peace, but without the aid of powers.

Just because those with magic were branded a disgrace to society didn’t mean they no longer existed.

Hidden from the eyes of the ordinary, your people lived in the shadows, trying to carry on their corrupted lives without letting the guilt and anger of betrayal consume them. Under a regime that feared and hunted the bearers of this power, you had learned to pretend nothing was wrong. Your people, flawed, yet bound by loyalty, were the closest thing you had to a family. Different in many ways, yet united by the same curse: magic, and the weight of being outcasts. That was enough to make life in the undercity feel richer, truer, than anything the wealthy and privileged could ever claim.

Although you were content with what you had, you couldn’t help but wonder: what could all of these people’s lives have been if magic had never been seen as something dangerous? Because of your father, you felt as though all the guilt had been placed on your shoulders.

Now, in the not-so-fancy living room of an abandoned common house where your group stayed, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. It felt as if all the suffering your people had endured was somehow your fault. And Kael could sense your anxiety from miles away. Sitting on the couch across from you, his eyes seemed to pierce straight into your thoughts. That brown-haired boy with scars on his skin could read you like an open book: once you slipped into the past, it was almost impossible to pull yourself back to the present.

Kael stood up and walked toward you, ignoring the laughter and chatter of the others in the living room. Right now, all that mattered to him was you. Using the excuse of discussing something important, he led you to his room and closed the door behind you. He sat on the bed, sighing, his eyes fixed on you.

"Spit it out," he said, a knowing look in his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, unconsciously tracing the lines of the mark on the back of your hand that proved you had magic. Kael's mark was on the nape of his neck.

"You always touch your mark whenever you think about your dad. Talk to me," he pleaded softly.

You stood in front of him, eyes locked. Every time you and Kael were alone, it felt like something more than friendship. It made your heart skip a beat. But… he was like a brother to you. Always had been… right?